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“You couldn’t tell her it was a stranger?”

“I panicked!” I throw my hands up before letting them drop back down to my lap. “I can’t lose the Riggs family, Brooks.”

“You don’t think this is going to tear them right down the middle. You just broke Kit’s heart.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t. It’s a crush.”

“That man has loved you since he was a teen.”

“Love and infatuation aren’t the same thing.”

He blinks at me as if he’s just realizing something himself, but his head shakes, clearing it of wherever his mind just went.

“Did it feel like a crush that weekend? When the two of you were together, did it feel like simple infatuation?”

I have to swallow with his questions because I’ve done my damnedest to not think about that weekend as anything more than a means to an end.

My time with Kit was hands down the best weekend of my life, and if things were different, if Kit was literally any other man on the planet, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with Brooks. I’d be wrapped up in that man’s arms, resting before we went at it again.

But I can’t admit that. I have to forget it ever happened, because doing anything less would make me want to open my mouth and tell everyone the truth. Even though things are bad now, it wouldn’t compare to the repercussions of that confession.

“It was a weekend of sex and nothing more,” I say, my tears renewed with the lie.

I can no longer look at the man I’ve forced to become an accomplice to my sins. My chest heaves, sobs escaping my mouth as I try to calm myself with no success.

Warm arms wrap around me a second later, and I greedily take the unearned comfort Brooks is offering. I sob into his chest, brokenhearted myself because the backlash to my lies is only beginning. I’ll never be able to face Kit again. I’ll never be able to go to his parents’ house for Sunday lunch without the guilt of what I’ve done weighing me down. I may not lose Beth completely, but things are going to change in our lives and not for the better.

“I would never really tell everyone about Archer,” I whisper.

I feel Brooks shake his head, his chin rubbing on the top of my head.

“There’s nothing to tell. You misinterpreted what you saw. There’s nothing going on between the two of us.”

I let him keep a firm grasp on his lie. It seems we’re both in the business of lying to ourselves these days.

Chapter 11

Kit

I huff and shake my head, uncaring of the people walking past me that give me strange looks. I know I probably look like an insane person walking the streets of downtown St. Louis, muttering to myself, but I just can’t wrap my head around what happened.

I went from irritated yet accepting that Jules was sticking to her end of our promise, only to be blindsided by the fact that she not only spent time in my bed that weekend, but that she also had sex with my best friend.

I don’t know whose betrayal hurts the most.

That’s not true.

Brooks doing this to me is like a knife right in the chest. What I stupidly assumed were jokes when he would try to rile me up, making comments about sleeping with her, have come to life. My best friend got the girl of my dreams pregnant. He gets what I always wanted—the girl, the baby, the fairy tale ending.

If I were a violent man, I’d punch a wall, or better yet, I’d go back to the office and beat his face bloody.

But I’m not that man. I’m the kind of man who is going to feel heartbreak for the rest of my life, all the while watching the two of them grow as a family.

I have no illusions that Brooks is going to settle down and marry the girl he impregnated. He’s just not the type, but also he’s the kind of man that’s going to be there for her every step of the way. He’ll step into his role as a father like he’s done everything else in his life, with gusto, joy, and solid dedication.

He’ll be a good dad. I can admit it. Jules is lucky to have that man in her corner.

As I circle the city block for the hundredth time, I consider what my options are. I can stay mad at him, but honestly, sleeping with Jules without the afterthought of what it means for anyone else is just him being him. Sex is more like exercise, something he does when he’s bored. He’s not thinking of a future or consequences when he’s hooking up with someone. He’s just a man taking comfort in what a woman’s body can offer him. It means nothing to him. It never has. The man is a playboy through and through, despite his lack of descriptive sexcapades in the last several months.


Tags: Marie James Blackbridge Security Erotic